


H-83RN

by cardinalrachelieu



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, F/M, Hurt, Zombie Apocalypse, high time indeed, it was high time this fandom had one, like........ a lot of angst, why yes i /did/ just write the dreaded zombie!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalrachelieu/pseuds/cardinalrachelieu
Summary: Not like this,he thinks, forcing himself to stay upright, forcing one foot in front of the other.Not in front of her.He wills his body, his soul, to be strong enough to fight this—fight the flames scorching him from the inside as they change him into something else, something dark.-----Prompt fill: "You're the only one." + Nessian





	H-83RN

**Author's Note:**

> I’VE BEEN ITCHING TO WRITE SOME ANGST™ AND THIS PROMPT OPENED THE DOOR I’M SORRY

_Not like this,_ he thinks, forcing himself to stay upright, forcing one foot in front of the other. _Not in front of her._ He wills his body, his soul, to be strong enough to fight this—fight the flames scorching him from the inside as they change him into something else, something dark.

Foolishly, he thought he’d have more time—thought he could get Nesta back to the others before turning his gun on himself. He should’ve done it the moment he discovered the bite, but he’s selfish. He wants to spend what little time he has left with her, committing every piece of her to memory—the softness of her palm against his own calloused one; the muted, golden tones hidden in the strands of her copper-brown hair; the way her lips curve around the syllables of his name, making it sound holy.

 _H-83RN,_ the scientists had christened it. Cassian has always thought that makes it sound too tame for what it is, what it does.

They’d touted it as one of the greatest medical breakthroughs in three generations. An engineered virus designed to boost the immune system’s response to foreign invaders, its creators had promised it would bring _an end to the Super Bug crisis_. But, like all viruses do, this one developed a mutation, and anyone infected with the mutated strain becomes something less than human—a creature driven purely by primal instincts, actions controlled by the whims of a microscopic invader. And _H-83RN_ wants only one thing: to replicate.

Within a month of the mutation first being reported, half the world had succumbed. Now, estimates put the number of surviving humans at fewer than one billion.

Cassian lets out a grunt as his shoulder collides with the graffiti-covered wall in the narrow alleyway. One by one, his muscles betray him, and he begins to understand that Nesta will be the one to pay the price for his greed. He’d been lying to himself when he rationalized his choice to escort her back, telling himself the virus needed time to incubate and the camp was near enough for them to make it.

Nesta turns, sees him falter, watches in disbelief as he slumps against the crumbling bricks, jagged chunks of painted stone strewn across the ground.

Just before he loses feeling in his right hand, Cassian tugs the pistol free of his thigh holster, tossing it on the rain-soaked concrete between his outstretched legs. With a heavy gaze, he looks up at her, asks her to do that which he cannot.

“No,” she breathes, horror stricken, trying to blink away the tears already welling in her eyes.

Cassian sets his jaw, clamps down on the terror which threatens to overwhelm him if he lets himself feel even but a sliver of it. “Please.” He hates himself for asking this of her—hates that he let himself reach this point.

He’s grateful their positions aren’t reversed; doesn’t think he could stomach putting a bullet between her fierce, grey-blue eyes—even if she asked it of him; even if she begged.

And in an instant he knows that, between the two of them, he has condemned her to the worse fate.

Nesta bends her knees, sinks down onto his lap, brings a hand up to his cheek—and he can _almost_ feel her, can almost feel the warmth of her even though the last of his nerve endings have gone dead. If he closes his eyes, doesn’t look at the way her face twists in anguish, it’s easier.

“No, no, no, no…” She mumbles it so many times Cassian loses count.

“You’re the only one,” he whispers, words sticking in his chest. “You’re the only one who can do it.” One shot to the head. Quick. Painless.

A tear slips free, trails down her cheek. “No.” Her voice wobbles—but, underneath the pain, he can hear understanding. She knows what needs to happen—what _must_ happen.

“Nes, there’s no time.” Four minutes, maybe less. This part of the change is always quick—unexpectedly so.

Nesta shakes her head, lips quivering even as she tries to steady her jaw. “I can’t,” she sobs, shutting her eyes tight.

“You can, Nes.” He tries to sound sure, but he doesn’t want to leave her. Not yet. Not after they just found each other again. “You’re strong.” Cassian says the words he knows she needs to hear.

“No,” she begs, brows pulling together, voice quietly breaking over the sharpened edge of grief.

_Three minutes._

“Nes, I’m not gonna be myself for much longer. I don’t want you to see me…” Cassian swallows the bile creeping up his throat. “Don’t wait for me to turn.”

He can see her thumb moving back and forth against his cheek, thinks it’s cruel that he can’t feel her in these final moments.

“I can’t lose you.”

“Nes,” he sighs, longing to touch her, hold her, comfort her. Stubbornly, his arms remain paralyzed at his sides. “I’m already gone. We’re just running out the clock.”

Nesta bows forward, body shuddering, and Cassian thinks she buries her face in the crook of his neck. He wants to scream, curse, _rage_ at the hand they've been dealt. But it wouldn't change anything—and he's already hurt Nesta enough. The least he can do now is hold himself together.

_Two minutes._

Cassian can feel a heat at the base of his skull, recognizes it as the final stage. “Nes"—he swallows—"it’s time.”

She doesn’t argue, doesn’t protest, doesn’t try to convince him he’ll be fine. She knows as well as he does there’s no cure for this; no prayer that can halt what’s been set into motion; no way to slow down time to let them say goodbye properly. The virus attacks with a savage efficiency, and the kindest end one can hope for is a swift death before the change takes hold.

Nesta draws a shaky breath and straightens her spine, one hand reaching behind her, eyes never leaving his. Cassian hears the scrape of metal against concrete, and, though he can’t tilt his head to see, knows she’s now balancing the .22 in her hand.

It was always bound to end this way. There were never going to be any survivors—not really.

“Tell the others—”

“I will.” She’s run out of tears, her anger supplanted by a hollowness that makes his decaying soul ache. She clenches her teeth and leans in close.

His vision starts to go black around the edges, and Cassian lets his eyes drift closed as he breathes in the scent of her while he still can.

_One minute._

“It’s not fair.” He can tell from the way she mumbles the words that Nesta’s lips are pressed flush to his forehead.

“It never is, sweetheart.”

Nesta pulls back, red-rimmed eyes fixing on his, and though it’s a struggle to focus on anything, he manages to focus on her.

The fire within Cassian rages, replacing every shard of _him_ with something… _wrong;_ something foul.

“I love you,” she murmurs, dipping her body to press her lips against his one last time.

Cassian moves his mouth in the way he always does for Nesta, ignores the hunger beginning to gnaw at the last remaining pieces of him—gives her what she needs to go through with the unimaginable. He hears the hammer cock, knows the barrel is resting just above his ear, knows—

“I love you, Nes.”

**Author's Note:**

> yes, 'tis i -- Satan™
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://yalenayardeen.tumblr.com)


End file.
